


moving on (and letting go)

by helsinkibaby



Category: The Following
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Het, Past Child Abuse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Debra goes back to Serenity Hills, but she doesn't go alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	moving on (and letting go)

**Author's Note:**

> For the "unbreak my heart" prompt on my Love Bingo card.

Usually when Mike is driving, he likes to have music playing but today there is only silence. Debra had snapped the dial off the moment he'd turned the key in the ignition, giving him a sheepish smile when he looked at her in surprise. It remains the only time she's smiled at him this morning and every time he glances over at her, he swears that her face is paler and more drawn. She speaks only to give him directions, even then uses only the minimum vocabulary necessary, and the rest of the time she stares straight ahead, hands clenched knuckle-white together. 

She directs him to a house and when he pulls up to the kerb he sees a man and woman working in the front garden. Debra sucks in her breath sharply and if Mike needed any confirmation that these are her parents then that is it. "Hey," he says and when she turns to look at him, he can see that she is visibly trembling. "You know you don't have to do this." Because once upon a time he might have encouraged it but he knows now, knows why she left these people, and as far as he's concerned, they're not worth another second of her time. "You say the word, we can leave."

Her hand closes over his and it takes all his self-control not to recoil in shock - it's the middle of the summer but her hand is freezing. "I need to do this," she says, her voice shaking as badly as her hands. 

Slowly, Mike nods. "You want me to stay here?"

"No." Her response is immediate and her cheeks flush. If he had to guess, he'd say she was embarrassed, that she hates to sound needy but he doesn't think like that - he just wants to be there for whatever she needs. 

He closes his hand over their still joined ones. "Tell me when you're ready."

Debra closes her eyes, breathes in deeply, lets it out slowly. Opening her eyes, she nods once. 

He lets her take the lead going up the path, following one step behind her. The couple had stopped working before they'd got out of the car, are standing side by side, staring at Debra as she walks towards them. Mike reads people for a living, knows better than to rely on first impressions but if he was pushed, he'd say Debra's father looks like he's somewhere between relieved and stricken. Her mother, on the other hand... the expression of revulsion, no other word for it, on her face makes Mike go cold all over. 

He's given his mom her fair share of grief over the years but not once has she ever looked at him like that. 

Debra stops just short of the couple, shifts on her feet before she speaks. "Hi, Dad," she says finally, her voice soft. "Mom."

Her father opens his mouth to speak: her mother beats him to it. "Why are you here?"

If Debra's hands had been cold, then her mother's voice is glacial and Mike steps up beside Debra. Debra pulls in a shaky breath, wraps her arms around herself.  "I wanted to see you both," she says honestly. "After everything that happened..."

Her mother doesn't know how hard Debra's had to work to say just those four words but Mike does. So when Debra's mother interrupts her, he has to force himself not to interject. He's here for support, not to fuel the fire. 

"Everything that happened was of your own making," she says and Debra's lips form a thin line. "Everything that you did, leaving this place... God's judgement is a terrible thing, Debra. You know that now."

It's hard for Mike to hold his tongue after that, but the look on Debra's face makes him do it. "God had very little to do with Joe Carroll," Debra points out, her voice shaking only a little and her hard-won composure only serves to harden her mother's heart. 

"You can't expect to come back here with your..." Her gaze turns to Mike, rakes him up and down and evidently finds him wanting. "Your fancy man and expect to be forgiven."

"I don't want forgiveness, Mom," Debra begins, but she stops when they all head a car pull up. Debra doesn't turn her head but Mike does, sees a man around the same age as Debra's dad getting out. When he looks around again, her parents' expressions have changed into something hovering between nerves and fear and suspicion begins to form in Mike's mind. 

Debra doesn't even have to glance back to shake her head. "Jungle drums," she mutters, Mike thinks more to herself than anyone else and it confirms Mike's suspicions. Turning around slowly, Debra faces the man coming towards them. 

"Hello, Dale," she says simply. 

Mike's eyes look Dale up and down  when he hears the name, because he knows who this is, what he did to Debra. He glances over at her, sees her jaw tighten, sees her stand up straighter, head up, shoulders back. She won't bow to him, won't show any weakness, even though he knows her heart is breaking right now. He can practically see her pushing back the tears, willing them not to fall and he takes a step closer to her but doesn't touch her, hoping his presence will be enough to let her know that he's there for her. 

"It's good to see you again, Debra," Dale says. "We all prayed for your safe return to us... that God would spare you despite your deeds..." 

Debra swallows hard, her face contorted in disgust. Her eyes burn with a mixture of hatred and tears, and she stares, rooted to the spot even as Dale takes a step towards her, his hand extended. Which is the moment when Mike finally breaks, sees red, and without any form of conscious thought on his part he finds himself standing in between Dale and Debra, slapping the man's hand down. 

"You don't touch her," he says, biting the words out. "You don't ever get to lay another hand on her, you hear me?"

He's aware of a soft gasp behind him, Debra's mother, he thinks; of a muffled curse from Debra's father. But what he really notices, what really breaks theough after a few terrible moments of silence, is Debra's hand closing over his elbow as she comes to stand beside him. "Mike," she says and her voice is very soft, softer than he's ever heard it. "Let's just go."

He turns his head towards her, meets a steady brown gaze. "You sure?" he asks and she nods firmly. 

"There's nothing for me here," is all she says as she laces her fingers through his. 

She's quiet on the drive back into  town, staring straight ahead. He glances over at her every now and again, waiting for some crack in her composure, some sign that she's ready to talk to him but he doesn't get any, not even when they pull up at their hotel and go inside. When they get to their room she sits down on the bed, rests her elbows on her knees and runs her hands through her hair. Slowly, carefully, he sits down beside her, not touching her at all and he waits for her to speak. When she does, the words aren't what he was expecting - or rather, the word. 

"Stupid." 

He looks at her sharply, frowning in confusion and she looks over at him, shakes her head. 

"Me," she says. "I was stupid to think it would make a difference. They made their choice...ten years ago, twenty five years ago. And it was never going to be me. I don't know why I thought that would change."

Mike's jaw drops. "Deb, you almost died," he says, because he doesn't understand, doesn't understand how that could fail to make a difference. "They're your parents... how could that..."

"You don't think I know that?" In spite of her words, her tone is level, even, with barely any emotion whatsoever. "I know that. I know all of that. Just like I knew going in there today that things weren't going to be any different..." She rolls her eyes to heaven, shakes her head. "'God's judgement'." She gives a little mirthless chuckle. "Never change, Ma." When she looks at him next, she reaches out, puts her hand on his knee. "Thank you... for what you did."

Mike purses his lips, looks down. "I wanted to deck him," he admits. "If you hadn't stopped me..."

A soft smile from Debra is his reward. "I almost wish I hadn't," she tells him and he chuckles. 

"We could go back there, finish what I started," he suggests and he's only half joking. She smiles as she runs her hand up and down his thigh. 

"I was expecting it," she says and he blinks, surprised. "I knew... what they were like. What they are like." Her lips turn up in a ghastly impersonation of a smile. "I knew..."

He closes his hand over hers, turns it over and laces their fingers together. "But you hoped, right?"

She lets out a long breath. "Maybe," she says eventually. "I mean... I thought the last time... I thought I had closure." She rolls her eyes. "Years of therapy... I thought I'd got over most of it... thought I'd moved on. Then being there... in the woods..." She stops talking, stops breathing, and when she starts again it's with a whoop of air that is terrifyingly familiar to him. "I realised maybe I hadn't so much. Moved on." Her fingers clench against his. "Then today... with you there... what you said, the way you looked..." Her eyes are bright with tears suddenly and he shakes his head, holds up his free hand. 

"Deb, we don't have to talk about this now..."

"Yeah, we do." She wipes a hand over her eyes, gives her shoulder a little shake. "When I ran away... why I ran away... it broke my heart. And I don't think... I don't think I ever really got over it, not entirely. I mean, I learned to live with it... I had to. Time... therapy helped... joining the FBI, running Alternative Religions..." Her voice breaks, one hand tightening its grip on his, the other going to his cheek. "Then I met you." She presses her lips together, pausing for a long moment before continuing. "You unbroke my heart... put me back together again, and I didn't even realise you had. Not until today."

A single tear traces its way down her cheek and he reaches up to brush it away. "You know," he says as his hand lingers, "That I would do anything..."

"You did." Her voice is a whisper that causes more tears to fall, causes a lump to rise up in his own throat. "You are the one good thing to come out of the Carroll case..."

He doesn't often disagree with on this one he does. "No," he says. "We are."

There's a sob and then her arms are around his neck and her head is buried in his shoulder and he is holding her like he never wants to let her  go. 

Which is accurate, because he doesn't, so he lies down on the bed, pulls her down with him and he holds her as she cries. 


End file.
